


Wanderer

by WonderingsAndMusings



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 19:26:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14119263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderingsAndMusings/pseuds/WonderingsAndMusings
Summary: This is just a short warm up piece I did a while back trying to focus on description.  I shared it on tumblr but I figured I'd post it here too.





	Wanderer

Fjord sat in the tavern, sipping his whisky as the firelight danced across the walls, sending light and shadow around the tavern to a rhythm all its own. A young halfling sat in the corner poorly strumming a tune on his lute, accurately depicting the mood in the mostly empty bar.

Empty bars were Fjord’s favorite place to sit and think, to remove himself from the jumble of life and activity his new found traveling companions carried with them.

“You sure you won’t be needin’ a room for the night,” a stout dwarven woman asked from behind the bar.

“I’m sure, but thank you kindly for the whisky. I should be heading out anyway.” He placed the coin on the counter and walked out of the tavern, leaving the flames to dance to the bards song without an audience.

He wandered the town alone. He practiced noticing each footfall, each breath, each heartbeat. The stars twinkled above lighting his path, the wind blew chilling his bones. Without knowing where he was headed, he focused on where he was going. He passed more lively taverns, hearing the laughter and feeling the warmth waiting for him inside. He passed silent houses, and closed shops, and boarded up buildings with planks on the windows and bars on the doors.

A hand slipped into his. A smile played on his lips. He focused on each pair of footfalls, each chilled breath, each twin heartbeat.

The pair wandered out of the town and off the road toward a small stream. The gentle sound of water running over rocks served as their bard. A small cup and a half empty bottle of whisky were their bartender. The silence was their conversation, neither wanting to break the spell of the night.

Molly spoke first, his hushed tone betrayed his reverence for the moment. “Are you okay?”

“I have no idea.”

They shared their cup, rinsing it in the stream as they packed up to leave. They corked the bottle and put both it and their glass into Fjord’s bag before hiking back to the town, then tavern, then bed.

Molly held Fjord tight as they drifted off to sleep, hoping that maybe he could keep Fjord here and protect him from his dreams.


End file.
